


Soaked To The Skin

by HisMomoness



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26954755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisMomoness/pseuds/HisMomoness
Summary: “A bath?” Zuko says, squinting at the full tub.Sokka rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, clearly, a bath. You’re all stressy. We’ve got a few hours before anyone gets back, so I figured you could relax a bit.”“It’s not even noon.”“Your point?”“It’s too early for a bath.”“Bullshit. It’s a holiday and we’re on vacation. Day baths are a luxury, just enjoy it. Look, I’ve got some tea and some of those fancy salts you like on the side.”Zuko opens his mouth but Sokka says quickly, “Yes, unscented. There will be no rashes on our vacation. Your phone’s here, too.”Seemingly out of viable arguments, Zuko snaps his mouth shut and settles for glaring at the water as if it has personally offended him. Sokka gives him a moment, trying to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, then nudges Zuko forward with a hand on the small of his back.“Zuko?”“Hmm?”“Get in the goddamn tub.”
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 462
Collections: M's Favorites





	Soaked To The Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving! Here's some filth.
> 
> Title is from "Stumbling In" by Great Big Sea.

Three days. 

Well, two and a half, if Sokka’s being truthful. He thought he’d be generous and give Zuko credit for his composure after last night’s particularly vicious game of Monopoly. But no, that’s when the stress had started to settle into Zuko’s shoulders, into the tense set of his jaw and the fine line between his eyes that Sokka wishes he could smooth away with his thumb.

Zuko’s insistence that he wanted to join Sokka, Hakoda, and Bato when they went hunting this morning hadn’t helped—one shot at a partridge in the bush and Zuko had lost his breakfast at the base of a tree. 

Two and a half days, then. That’s how long it takes for Sokka to take absolute pity on the man, and it’s as soon as Zuko’s upright after heaving and wearing a humiliated expression that he swipes Bato’s offered truck keys and tells him they’re going home. 

* * *

“You better not be screwing with me.”

“I’m not screwing with you.”

A pause. “I still think you probably are.”

Sokka rolls his eyes hard, even though Zuko can’t see it from behind the dark toque Sokka pulled down over his face. He steers him with two hands on his shoulders, leading him gently down the hall, away from the room they’re sharing for their visit. “Babe, it’s been three years. A little faith, please?”

Zuko snorts and Sokka resists the childish urge to trip him.

_Remember you love him,_ he tells himself.

He stops when they cross the threshold of the washroom, clicking the door shut gently behind himself. The air is already thick and warm with steam. It curls pleasantly around Sokka’s skin, a stark and welcome contrast to the cold they’d been out in an hour ago. 

“Ta-da,” he says, pulling Zuko’s hat off with a flourish. He drops an arm to hang loosely around Zuko’s waist. 

“A bath?” Zuko says, squinting at the full tub. 

Sokka rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, clearly, a bath. You’re all stressy. We’ve got a few hours before anyone gets back, so I figured you could relax a bit.”

He’s actually pretty proud of himself for this. Sometimes it’s hard to feel like he offers much in the way of emotional support, partly because Zuko gets prickly and defensive when he feels too much, and partly because Sokka’s own anger about the circumstances that lead to that lashing out being Zuko’s default can be hard to grapple with. But he can act, he can _do_ things to show he cares. 

Zuko loves baths, often cramming himself into their tiny apartment tub in the evening and emerging all pruny and loose. That’s usually when he’s ready to use his words and tell Sokka about whatever happened that day that made him shut himself in the bathroom in the first place, so Sokka is confident this is going to help him feel better. 

“It’s not even noon.”

“Your point?”

“It’s too early for a bath.”

“Bullshit. It’s a holiday and we’re on vacation. Day baths are a luxury, just enjoy it. Look, I’ve got some tea and some of those fancy salts you like on the side.”

Zuko opens his mouth but Sokka says quickly, “Yes, unscented. There will be no rashes on our vacation. Your phone’s here, too.”

Seemingly out of viable arguments, Zuko snaps his mouth shut and settles for glaring at the water as if it has personally offended him. Sokka gives him a moment, trying to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, then nudges Zuko forward with a hand on the small of his back. 

“Zuko?”

“Hmm?”

“Get in the goddamn tub.”

Zuko sighs and it’s like a puppy flopping itself down after a hard play—his shoulders droop and he goes nearly boneless. It doesn’t stop him from sending Sokka a glare as he strips, but it’s without real heat. Sokka just beams and waits patiently for Zuko to sink into the hot water, enjoying his own show of smooth skin over lean muscle as layers of clothing come off.

It’s not until he tips his head back and lets himself slide deeper into the water that Zuko’s face softens, the strain that’s been etched into it since they left the city finally easing. Something in Sokka’s gut unclenches with it, and he smiles as he brushes back Zuko’s hair. 

Zuko closes his eyes and hums his appreciation. Sokka strokes again and slowly gathers the inky strands that fall around Zuko’s shoulders, letting them slide over and through his fingers for a few moments. Zuko wordlessly lifts his head to let Sokka twist his hair into a pile at the nape of his neck, and Sokka paws at the counter until his free hand lands on a hair tie that he can use to secure it. He only barely catches a murmured thanks as Zuko sinks back into the water.

“Want some of those salts?” Sokka asks. 

Zuko just nods. Sokka smiles and shakes a few scoops of the salts into the tub, then sticks his hand in the water to swish, dissolving it slightly. Zuko huffs when he sneaks a pinch of one pink nipple, tweaking it gently under the water. 

Sokka chuckles and drops a kiss onto Zuko’s head. “Take your time, okay? And drink your tea. Gotta stay hydrated.”

Sokka is sure that a scowl follows him out of the room, but he only shakes his head as he closes the door. 

* * *

He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but he’s unused to early mornings these days. Sokka wakes with a small start when he feels the mattress dip beside his hip. He must have dozed off in bed when he was scrolling mindlessly on his phone. It’s still on his chest, and he tosses the device onto the bedside table before sitting up.

Zuko is perched on the edge of the bed, pulling a pair of shorts on underneath the towel tied at his waist. 

“Hold up,” Sokka says, batting at his hands. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Zuko smirks over his shoulder, but obliges by dropping the garment onto the floor. “Oh, really?”

“I didn’t mean _that,_ you jerk. Scooch over here.” Sokka pats the center of the bed and moves to make room. “Lie down on your front. You’re not finished relaxing.”

“Sokka, I’m f—”

“Freaking stubborn? _Well_ aware of that fact, babe. Towel off, on your belly. Trust me.”

He pats the mattress again and Zuko drops the towel and goes, lying down on the bed and pillowing his chin on his arms. “This is silly.”

“Mhm, and you secretly love it,” Sokka says. He swings a leg over to straddle the back of Zuko’s thighs, runs his hands from his shoulders to the base of his spine. That one motion causes Zuko to sag into the bed, any lingering resistance gone from his body. Sokka grins and reaches over to the bedside table where he’d earlier stashed a small bottle of massage oil. They don’t really do this kind of thing, but months ago on their anniversary Zuko had bought Sokka a gift certificate for a massage. It had been amazing—Sokka knows that Zuko would never go himself, because it would require being touched by a stranger, but he thinks it would be good for him. He’s happy to give it a shot. For the sake of his own sanity, if not Zuko’s stress level. 

No time like the present. Sokka _probably_ won’t get his head bit off for this. Still, it matters that Zuko is actually okay with it. “Doing good, babe?”

“Um, yeah. I think so.”

“Good. Just relax and let me take care of you, yeah?”

Zuko nods and Sokka sets to work, warming some oil in his palms and starting with long, smooth strokes across the pale expanse of skin in front of him. He works his fingers a little deeper into the tight muscles in Zuko’s shoulders, and pauses to press his thumbs into the small of Zuko’s back, on either side of his spine. 

When it’s been ten minutes of easy silence and Zuko feels sufficiently pliant beneath him, Sokka gathers up his courage. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, keeping his tone conversational. The less of a thing this is, the more likely Zuko is to be honest. 

“‘Bout what?” Zuko mumbles.

“Come on, you’ve been wound tight since we got here. Then you insisted on coming hunting, which—like, what? You hate it. You _always_ stay back with Aang and Katara.”

Zuko squirms and mumbles something unintelligible into the pillow. 

Sokka presses harder into the knot under the heel of his hand and kneads until a low whine escapes Zuko. “What was that, babe?”

“I said I don’t know how to do this,” Zuko says. His voice is tight with frustration and he flings a hand out to the side, flopping it hard onto the bed. Long fingers grapple at the sheets. 

Sokka runs his hands over Zuko’s back for a long moment before asking, as calmly as he can manage, “How to do what? We’re on break. Nobody needs you to do anything.”

“No, it’s— _ugh._ ” Zuko’s hand tightens in a fist. Sokka waits another moment for Zuko to continue, swallowing down the cold that settles in his stomach. “It’s the whole thing. I don’t know how to do the _family_ thing. Everyone’s so happy to see each other and spend time together and all I can think is that I’m just going to fuck it up. And it’s—it’s exhausting.”

Sokka clenches his teeth to bite back the urge to tell Zuko exactly how wrong he is, that he’s being ridiculous and that Sokka’s family doesn’t expect anything, and that just because Ozai deserves a spot in the hall of fame for _parents who’ve royally fucked up their children_ doesn’t mean that he can’t have a family. That he _does_ have a family, one who’s been nothing but ecstatic to have him for every major holiday over the past few years. God, half the time when Hakoda wants an update on Sokka’s life he calls Zuko directly. 

None of that would help. 

“Zuko,” he starts, slowly, “that’s _okay._ I think everyone feels a little tired around family sometimes, no matter how well they get along. I’ve got twenty-seven years with these guys under my belt and even I can only take so much. It’s all good, alright? Nobody needs you to come hunting when you hate it or play games in the face of Katara’s death threats. You do what you want to do. And if you want to come up here and take a nap or whatever to decompress? Nobody is going to be upset about it.”

“I don’t want them to think I’m ungrateful.”

“Babe, you willingly do the dishes and help cook. Hell, two nights ago you helped Gran Gran file her heel calluses. Even _Aang_ refuses to do that. _Nobody_ is ever going to accuse you of being ungrateful.”

“I just…” Zuko starts. He trails off and twists to look at Sokka, face flushed and brow knitted. “I just, um. Love them?”

He says it like a question, like it’s a foreign concept. It’s so endearing that Sokka laughs outright and leans forward for a kiss, paying no mind to the oil soaking from Zuko’s skin into the front of his shirt. He kisses Zuko open-mouthed and deep, and when he pulls back the look on his face is such a precious mix of confusion and shock that he laughs again. 

“They love you, too, you know. They always have. So can you do me a favour and stop stressing about this?”

Zuko frowns at the pillow but says, “I’ll try.” His eyes flick back to Sokka’s and he adds, very quietly, “I love you even more.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know.” Sokka smiles and dips down for another light kiss as something in his chest warms and twists pleasantly. The words are rare and Sokka never takes them for granted. His heart still swells every time, and every time he’s sure he breaks into a dopey, lovestruck grin. 

Zuko doesn’t keep the kiss light. He presses forward, licking into Sokka’s mouth with a hoarse groan. Sokka responds in kind, sliding his hands to knead into Zuko’s biceps and sliding to the side a little for a better angle. 

He breaks away after a moment when Zuko tilts his hips up, reminding Sokka that he’s still very much straddling his ass and that Zuko is still very much naked. He drops his forehead to Zuko’s shoulder and grinds his hips down. Zuko thrusts up again, urging him on. 

Sokka truly hadn’t meant _that_ when he offered the massage, but he’s not sure as shit going to say no. 

Sokka grinds his hips down a few more times, fully hard now, before shimmying backwards and grabbing two generous palmfuls of Zuko’s ass. He’d avoided it during his massage because he didn’t want to get distracted, but Zuko moans appreciatively as he works into the muscle. His back arches and he wiggles his thighs farther apart, improving Sokka’s view that much more.

“God, baby,” Sokka breathes, leaning down. He gently bites one cheek, scraping his teeth across the skin until Zuko gives a small shudder, then does the same on the other side. He grips Zuko’s hips firmly and lifts up. Zuko shifts his knees forward on the bed to help support himself, and Sokka reaches a hand around to palm him, hot and hard. Zuko keens and rocks into his hand, but Sokka keeps his grip light, teasing. He only gives a few short pumps before sliding his hand back to Zuko’s hip. 

“Come _on_ ,” Zuko whines. 

“Patience, babe,” Sokka chides, grinning, and dives forward. 

Zuko lets out a strangled squeak at the first pass of Sokka’s tongue, a long, firm stroke from balls to entrance. Sokka knows he loves this, knows that the way Zuko has gone rigid in his hands is to resist pushing back into his face, not from discomfort. 

“Better?” he asks. 

“Fuck, just— _god,_ ” Zuko groans. 

Sokka chuckles and tilts back down. He spends a good long while teasing, swirling and probing with his tongue until Zuko’s writhing with impatience. Then he teases some more. 

He loves this shit, savours the little bit of authority that he gets to exercise in bed. Even if Zuko won’t admit it, he enjoys it too. Sokka would never be really mean—it’s only fun if they’re both in the mood for it—but holding off just long enough that Zuko gets bratty and demanding with need? It’s fucking fantastic. 

Eventually Zuko snaps, “Hurry _up,_ ” and Sokka doesn’t hesitate before pressing a finger directly against his entrance and in. It’s an easy slide and Sokka smirks a little at knowing that at least Zuko’s relaxed enough for this, if not another night of hyper-competitive board games. Zuko’s demands devolve into a breathy whine as he rocks his hips back, looking for more. Sokka gives it, adding a second finger after only a few moments and curling them gently at the top of each thrust. 

“ _Sokka_ ,” Zuko groans, “ _Please._ Just do it already.”

“Sorry, babe. It’s been a while. You’ll have to be patient,” he says, but gives a sharp thrust anyways that makes Zuko’s hands fist into the sheets. “Still doing good?”

“I’ll be better when you fuck me.”

“You really should get back into meditation.”

“Shut— _ah, shit, there_ —shut up.”

Sokka laughs and pulls his hand free, planting a kiss on the small of Zuko’s back when he grunts at the loss. “Give me a second,” he murmurs, before rolling away to throw off his own shirt—probably permanently oil stained now, a minor sacrifice—and kicking off his pants and boxers. He gives himself a few tugs for a bit of relief, then flops onto his back beside Zuko.

Zuko wastes no time in draping himself across Sokka’s chest and tilting down for a sloppy kiss. Sokka wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him into it further, fingers tangling in the mass of dark hair that’s still damp from the bath. 

Sokka loves this, too, just kissing Zuko. It’s not often they actually do, unless sex is on the table. Zuko tugs Sokka’s lower lip into his mouth and sucks, dragging a soft moan from Sokka along with the private vow to change that as soon as they get home. They should be doing a _lot_ more kissing, he’s decided. 

He inhales sharply as Zuko pulls away and slides down to nuzzle at the soft spot under Sokka’s jaw. He runs his blunt nails gently over Zuko’s shoulder blades as he alternates between placing open kisses and soft nips down Sokka’s throat. Heat blooms in his gut with each whisper of Zuko’s lips, and he throws his head back for better access. Zuko ignores the unspoken request, instead leaning down further to bite into the muscle where Sokka’s shoulder meets his neck. 

It’s not hard enough to hurt but just hard enough to make his toes curl and his dick twitch. Sokka gasps and tightens his hands on Zuko’s back. Enough teasing.

“Come here, baby, over here,” he murmurs, pulling at Zuko’s shoulders to maneuver him further on top of him. He’s dying for stimulation, and it _has_ been a while. 

Zuko slots himself between Sokka’s thighs but shakes his head when Sokka reaches down to line their cocks up. “Not yet,” he says. “Let me take care of you, now.”

That’s all the warning he gets before Zuko sits back on his heels and swallows him down, wet heat enveloping his cock as he arches up into Zuko’s mouth with a loud groan. Familiar, calloused hands grab his hips and press him hard into the mattress. 

Zuko pulls off long enough to mumble, “Keep quiet,” before taking Sokka down his throat again. Sokka heaves a shuddering breath and reaches his fingers into Zuko’s hair, pushing back the wayward strands. It’s not lost on him how much of a privilege this is, that he can touch Zuko this way, even the scar. To be trusted like this. 

It sometimes hurts, the volume of love Sokka carries for his partner. It threatens to burst from him with every shy smile or dry joke, a luminescence that he’s sure must ooze from his pores when he forgets to keep it in check. It’s a heavy love but never burdensome. Sokka knows that with loving Zuko comes a responsibility, but it’s a weight he’ll carry as long as Zuko lets him—forever, hopefully.

He strokes a thumb across Zuko’s unmarred cheekbone, smiling softly when Zuko opens his eyes to look at him through dark lashes. It’s only a flash of gold before Zuko ducks his head again and focuses on his task. 

The tender moment gets overtaken by want when Zuko licks a firm stripe up the underside of Sokka’s cock, then swallows hard around the head. 

“Oh my god, fuck, _come here,_ ” Sokka says, making grabby hands. Zuko smirks and wipes the back of a hand across his mouth before crawling up for a bruising kiss. Sokka blindly fumbles around the bedside table, hoping to land on the bottle of lube without breaking the kiss. Zuko huffs a laugh against his lips.

“Now who needs to be patient?”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Sokka lies.

Zuko smirks again and sits back, reaches to grab the bottle before Sokka knocks over the lamp and squeezes a healthy amount onto his hand. Sokka hisses at the cold as Zuko fists him and strokes a few times to coat his cock, then lines himself up. 

It’s never _not_ going to be the most erotic thing that Sokka’s ever seen, his own cock disappearing inside Zuko. He watches, awestruck like the first time, as Zuko slowly lowers himself until he’s fully seated with a satisfied sigh. Sokka pointedly does not move despite the fact that it’s warm and tight and amazing, and settles for running his hands up and down Zuko’s inner thighs. Zuko sighs again as Sokka’s thumbs make small circles into the crease of his hips. 

Golden eyes crack open and a grin spreads across Zuko’s face. He hasn’t even moved and already he looks more than a little loopy and well-fucked. It’s excellent for Sokka’s ego, having a boyfriend that’s so easy to please. Sokka grins back and slides a hand up to the center of Zuko’s chest, reveling in the steady thrum of his heart beneath his palm. 

Zuko’s hand wraps around his, holding it to his chest, and he gives an experimental rock forward. Sokka drops his head back and groans his encouragement, fighting to keep his eyes open. He's determined not to waste such an incredible view. Zuko finds a languid rhythm, and Sokka slides his other hand to Zuko’s neglected cock, firmly stroking him back to hardness in time with the slow roll of his hips. 

Sokka’s usually far more chatty in bed, but today he’s content to just watch. It’s still only early afternoon, soft light from the overcast day filtering into the room to illuminate their lazy lovemaking. Zuko is gorgeous as ever, dark hair falling around his face and slightly curled from the bath. The small scars littering his chest are beautiful in their own way, too—little reminders that Zuko is more resilient than he’d like to believe. It’s times like these that Sokka most struggles to comprehend his own exceptional luck. 

They know each other’s bodies well at this point, so when Zuko’s breathing starts to shake and his hips rock harder Sokka increases the pace of his hand. Zuko’s breath hitches when he twists his wrist at the top of a firm stroke, and Sokka knows he’s close. 

“So good, babe, so pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re right there. Come on, come for me. You’re being so good for me.”

The praise tips Zuko over the edge the way it never fails to. He spills onto Sokka’s chest with a bitten back moan, hands braced on his thighs. Sokka strokes him through the aftershocks until he’s nudged away and Zuko drops onto his chest, heedless of the mess between them. 

“Good, baby?” Sokka asks, splaying his hands on Zuko’s back. He’s heaving ragged breaths into Sokka’s air, warm air tickling his ear. 

“Always,” he mumbles. “Now you. Keep going.”

Sokka doesn’t need more encouragement than that, and it doesn’t take long. He braces his feet on the mattress and a few thrusts later his own pleasure crests and crashes, sweeping his mind clear of intelligible thought. His hips stutter and he comes hard with a muffled groan into Zuko’s shoulder.

At some point Zuko had managed to band his arms half underneath Sokka. He’s being held tight while Zuko mouths at his neck, the scrape of lips and teeth sending tingles skittering across his skin. For a few long moments all he hears is the rough sound of their mingled breathing, harsh pants slowly returning to a normal rate. He waits until he’s softened and sliding out of Zuko to roll him off and over, chuckling lightly at the whine of protest he gets for it. 

When Zuko’s on his back Sokka turns onto his side and throws an arm and leg over him. Zuko’s nose wrinkles in a grimace. 

“What is it?”

“We’re going to need another bath,” Zuko says. He’s half slurring, voice low and even raspier than usual.

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?”

Zuko smiles and shoves half-heartedly at Sokka’s shoulder before closing his eyes. Sokka does the same, dozing for a few blissful minutes until a loud chime sounds. Zuko shifts from under him, stirring him back to awareness. He grumbles a complaint without opening his eyes.

“Oh!” Zuko exclaims, his voice brightening. “Uncle sent a Druk update. Look.” A phone is promptly shoved into Sokka’s face. He blinks his eyes open to peer at a picture of their rotund orange tabby, lying contentedly in a patch of sun on their apartment floor. 

Sokka thinks vaguely that they really need to redouble their efforts on Druk’s diet when they get home. What he says, mumbling into Zuko’s collarbone, is “Mm. You hungry? The sooner we head down for dinner the sooner I can enjoy a meat coma.”

“Are we going to have to do the thing where we say what we’re thankful for?”

“You know it.”

Zuko hums and he clicks the phone off to look at the ceiling, considering.

“Problem?” Sokka asks. He won't be surprised if there is—Zuko’s life has gotten a lot better in recent years, but he knows that there are times he gets too in his head to recognize all the good things he’s got going. 

Zuko pauses, sliding his hand across Sokka’s arm to entwine their fingers. Sokka watches him study their joined hands for a moment, anxiety threatening to pool in his belly once more. 

Finally, Zuko lolls his head over and smiles gently. There’s warmth in his eyes, the affection that Sokka only sees when they’re alone together, and a quiet confidence behind that. 

“No,” he whispers. “No problem at all.”


End file.
